In Memoriam - A poem for the day

On the hills of the cemetery are hundreds of crosses,
We all know the battles…these are the losses.
Among the lush grash and emerald mosses,
There’s a young woman, a flower she tosses…

On to the soil at the foot of a grave,
that belonged to a woman, she was one of the brave.
and on the stone there, this inscription engraved:
“Whatever she had, that was what she gave.”

In that kind of work you don’t get to call in,
whether you stand or you’re on the ground sprawling,
All those proud men and women, who committed, went all in,
that’s why we take time to remember our fallen.

Now the fortunate ones who did not have to die,
came home to a place where the bullets don’t fly,
and there’s no mortar shell blasts ablaze in the sky,
still they stay up at night and can only ask: Why…

Why do I hear the screams again and again
of the hundreds of injured and dying young men?
For these wounded warriors who lost too many friends,
Now they need us the way we needed them.

So while you’ve got the burgers and ‘dogs on the grill,
and you’re enjoying a wonderful holiday thrill,
I hope that the meaning of this day you’ll fulfill,
and take a moment or two to be perfectly still…

…and remember the soldiers of wars passed by,
who made the great sacrifice we cannot deny.
Then, just maybe you’ll understand why
it’s so important Old Glory still flies.